


wicked game

by newtslittleniffler



Series: I love you, but you're bringing me down (DRARRY) [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Anxiety, BUT ALSO HAPPY, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Child Abuse, Depression, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Insomnia, Lies, M/M, Mild Smut, Miscommunication, Romance, Sad Draco Malfoy, Secrets, Sexual Content, i'll keep adding tags as i go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-12 05:41:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10483320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newtslittleniffler/pseuds/newtslittleniffler
Summary: After two years of sneaking around, Harry and Draco are finally free to be open about their relationship. That should be a great thing, right? Stir in Draco's task from the Dark Lord and the weighing disappointment from his family, and the knowledge that Harry seems to be hiding things... maybe not quite so great.**ON HIATUS**~~~This work is a sequel to my work Dirty Little Secret, so it's best to read that first! Please bear in mind that this is a lot darker than the DLS, it controls themes of child and domestic abuse and lots of homophobia. I'll try and put warnings for chapters with particularly triggering content! ~~~





	1. coming home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so excited to get started on this story! Make sure you've read my story 'Dirty Little Secret' before getting started on 'Wicked Game' :D

Draco had never felt quite so happy to be going back to school. Of course, there was the obvious - he would be seeing Harry again. That wasn’t all, however… he was maybe even more looking forward to escaping the cold halls of Malfoy Manor. He wanted to get away from his father so badly that it hurt. He had never before suspected he would actually be  _ wishing  _ for his father to stay locked up in Azkaban, but of course, that hadn’t happened; because unfortunately for Draco, his father had close ties to the ministry. 

On the morning of the 1st of September, Draco’s mother had insisted that they eat breakfast together as a family. It sounded nice enough, and yet Draco was not at all surprised to find out what the true intention of the breakfast was. It wasn’t one last morning with their darling boy - it was for his father to go over strategy for his task. 

The task that had been keeping Draco up night after night, tossing and turning in his bed, the task that was driving him entirely insane. 

“And I don’t think I have to say this again, Draco,” his father was saying, “But you have already shamed this family enough. If you don’t do what the Dark Lord has requested… you would be the complete death of this family.” 

It was no secret that Draco’s sexuality was something of great humiliation to his father, he didn’t really know what his mother thought; though the fact that he was with Harry was, in their eyes, a complete abomination. Yes, it was worth it, because Draco wanted nothing more than to be with Harry. That didn’t mean being with Harry didn’t pain him immensely. Now, he had the challenge that would almost definitely make him lose his love forever: killing Dumbledore. 

Just the thought of it made Draco’s bones chill, so discussing it brought tears pricking at his eyes. 

He knew it was pointless, but still he said (more to his mother), “I can’t do it. Please…  _ Please  _ don’t make me. Harry would-”

“Don’t you DARE mention that halfblood  _ fool _ under this roof.” Lucius exploded. Draco was always careful, tiptoeing around the briefest topic associated with Harry. The few times they had met up over the summer (it wasn’t nearly enough), Draco hadn’t even dared to tell his family where he was truly going. 

Feeling his cheeks heat up, he stared down at his plate. “I’m sorry. It’s just that… he would never forgive me. And I can’t lose-” 

“You either lose him, or you lose us. You lose the family status, you lose the honour of being able to fulfill the wishes of the Dark Lord.” Lucius cut him off harshly, and he threw his serviette down onto his plate with so much undying fury that it seemed impossible. How could one man contain that much rage? 

The loud roughness to his father’s tone made Draco’s hairs stand on end. He glanced to his mother, but as usual, she wasn’t going to say anything. It was no use trying to talk down Lucius, it just made him even angrier. Her eyes fixed on her lap, she shook her head just barely. A hint, a tiny little warning to Draco, begging him not to push it. 

“You ought to think about your moves very carefully.” Lucius said, and as he spoke he scraped his chair across the stone floor, rising to his feet. “Remember where you come from, Draco.” 

He left the dining room, the heels of his feet making echoing smacks against the ground. It was only when he was sure that he was gone that Draco muttered under his breath, “It seems I come from the depths of hell.” 

His mother didn’t even reprimand him. 

 

**************

 

The entire journey to King’s Cross station was miserable and anxiety driven. The only thing that kept Draco from smashing the windows and running off to live alone in the middle of nowhere was Harry, he was pretty certain. Already, the thought of sitting just a few seats away from where the headmaster sat made his stomach churn. How would he cope with the guilt? As much as Draco tried to keep the task out of his head, he still couldn’t get rid of the ringing, hissing voice of You-Know-Who as he gave him his challenge. 

_ “We need somebody unexpected, Malfoy. We need… your son.” He had said in such a cold, empty, hollow voice that it even made Draco a little sad. How lonely must one have been to become such a soulless monster?  _

It was like a recurring nightmare, the memory of how those terrible slitted eyes had turned to look at him, a long, thin bony finger pointing right at him.

_ “ _ Draco… _ ” he had breathed. “It’s you. You’re the perfect one for the job. Will you do the honours?”  _

It made his head ache with a searing pain that stabbed right through his forehead. He even hated his parents for bringing him into a world where killing somebody, killing the greatest wizard of all time, was actually an  _ honour _ . 

Too soon, yet also not soon enough, the car pulled up outside the station. He hadn’t been surprised when Lucius had said as he did every year that he wouldn’t be going to see him off, but he’d been expecting his mother to go along. She had wanted to, well, she hadn’t wanted to even let him go in the first place...  of course, though, his father made the rules. Draco was alone as he clambered out of the car, the driver started heaving his trunk and things out of the boot. 

“Careful with that!” Draco snapped. Just his stern voice made the driver look terrified, and that realisation made Draco want to avada kedavra himself. Whenever he let his temper slip, it was a reminder of the beast his father was, and how alike they truly were. Shaking his head in despair at his own character, Draco thought about how desperate he was to see Harry. Whenever the two of them were together, it was like the hardness of Draco deteriorated. He wasn’t mean and cold and cruel, he was just himself. 

Finding a trolley, Draco loaded his stuff into it and said goodbye to the driver, adding a thank you as an afterthought. Weaving his way through the crowds, Draco recognised many faces of Hogwarts students, all making their way to platform nine and three quarters. As usual, Draco had arrived early, and as usual, Harry would be late. 

Just the thought of being with Harry made Draco feel crazy with guilt. Dumbledore was like a father to him… maybe the only true father figure he had left. And he was going to die soon, and Draco knew it. So badly, he wished he could tell Harry everything, but then if he did - Voldemort would kill his parents. He couldn’t let that happen. Despite himself, Draco was of course incredibly excited to see Harry again. 

Being without him felt like a physical heartbreak, his chest always about to cave in. Lonely, Draco watched with sad eyes as students got kisses on the head and tight hugs from their family members, friends met up and getting ready to board the Hogwarts Express together. 

Draco had never had friends. He had Crabbe and Goyle, but… well. He didn’t think they counted. They especially didn’t now. He didn’t know if it was something to do with being a Malfoy or what, but nobody really gave him any grief about being gay, or about being with Harry. They just left him alone - which also meant they didn’t really talk to him at all. Not that he cared, he never really liked them anyway. Consciously or not, Draco was being very slow as he went through the wall and onto the platform, just as the scarlet engine of the train was sounding. He didn’t really know where to go. Usually he sat with the Slytherins of course, but - he wanted to see Harry. But what if Harry didn’t  _ want  _ to sit with him? They never usually sat together on the train. What if he just wanted to be with his friends? 

What if he didn’t even  _ like  _ Draco anymore?! What if he had realised what an evil, arrogant bastard he was and- 

“Malfoy!” 

Just hearing that voice made Draco’s heart sing. He felt like an idiot, but it was true, he felt like a stupid lovesick idiot instantly and he kind of liked it. Turning, he saw Harry coming towards him, pushing his trolley with Hedwig and his trunk on it. He was closely followed by Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Mrs Weasley, and a couple of aurors too. Raising his eyebrows, Draco smirked. 

“The Chosen One has a whole entourage of guards.” 

He didn’t think that they would ever slip out of teasingly calling each other by their surnames in faux-disgust, nor would he ever stop calling Harry, ‘The Chosen One’, scoffing as he did so. That was how he liked it - it was familiar. It had started to be a name of affection - maybe to Draco it always had been. He’d always thought of Harry differently. He always thought he was so beautiful and cute and he wanted to get to know him, but of course they were enemies and it just made Draco furious and hateful. 

Laughing, Harry shoved Draco lightly, having left his trolley and moving to stand close to him. 

“Hey.” he said softly, and he leaned in so that their noses were almost touching. 

The closeness always took Draco off guard, he inhaled sharply and almost instinctively looked around to check nobody was looking - but then he remembered. He smiled and allowed himself to inhale Harry’s scent, to take him in, to get even closer. Ignoring the fact that they were surrounded by people, even aurors from the ministry, Draco pressed his lips against Harry’s. As always, it felt new and exciting, despite the fact that they kissed pretty much non stop whenever they saw each other. He thought that Harry felt the same, because it always made his breaths speed up and he always lost control a little bit. 

“Oi, lovebirds.” they were interrupted by Ron, “Did you forget that we’re meant to be catching a train?” 

Ron was a nice boy, he was being good natured and joking, but it still made Draco shift nervously. It had been hard for him to accept that Ron and Hermione really did respect that Draco and Harry loved each other - and he was incredibly glad that they at least pretended to kind of like him. He didn’t believe that they truly did, but that was besides the point. 

Grinning, Harry turned to hug Mrs Weasley. Draco tried to ignore the jealousy that poured over him… she hugged him with such love, giving a big kiss on the cheek. If it weren’t for the fact that they looked absolutely nothing alike, you might believe that they truly are mother and daughter. Feeling slightly uncomfortable, Draco acted as if he wasn’t being watched by the aurors and by Mrs Weasley as he hauled his stuff onto the train. Hermione and Ron had already started moving down the train to find carriages. Draco didn’t want to just follow them because they probably didn’t even want him there. He couldn’t just follow them, he’d probably end up squeezing into a carriage with some first year Slytherin’s, because they’d just leave him alone most likely. Maybe he could read his mind, but Harry instantly said, “Come on, then.”

“What?” Draco asked blankly, he didn’t quite know why he was so stunned 

“Er, to find a seat?” Harry said as if he was being ridiculous. 

Utter relief washing over him, Draco said, “Are you sure the others don’t mind?”

“Don’t be an idiot.” Harry laughed, and he excitedly grabbed Draco’s hand and pulled him down the train after his best friends. 

It felt strange to hear Harry finding the idea of Draco even second guessing for a moment that he would be included so funny. A strangeness that he definitely welcomed. The others had found a carriage with Luna and Neville in it. As he entered it, staying close to Harry, Draco felt eyes on him. He had never been kind to either Neville or Luna; that just brought the question of whether or not Draco had ever been kind to literally  _ anyone _ .

An awkward, still moment of hesitation, although it was more like everything froze for Draco and nobody else. Giving him some kind of look, Harry nodded his head, turning to face Draco as he backed into a seat beside Hermione. 

_ Say something,  _ the look said.  _ Show them you’re not who they think you are…  _

_ But you  _ are  _ who they think you are,  _ a nasty voice in Draco’s head tauntingly reminded him,  _ son of a death eater who will inevitably succumb to darkness.  _

“Uh… hi.” he said, trying not to cringe when he heard how his voice shook. How embarrassing was that? Being nervous in front of Luna and Longbottom!

Instantly, he felt terrible for even thinking like that. Luckily, none of them could read his mind. 

“Hello Draco.” Luna said in her singsong voice, “Did you have a good summer?” 

Taken aback, Draco looked to Harry for confirmation that he had just heard correctly. It felt so  _ unusual  _ that people would actually ask things like that. In Slytherin, Crabbe, Goyle, Blaise, Pansy…  _ nobody  _ asked things like that. They weren’t like friends, they were just like housemates who had to put up with each other. Another nod from Harry gave Draco the ability to actually respond. He felt like a toddler, needing look after look from Harry to assure him that everything was safe. 

Moving to take the seat beside Harry, sitting as close to him as humanly possible, Draco nodded barely. “Better than some, I expect.” he said flatly, and then realised that made him sound… well. Like the Draco they all knew. He tried for a smile, “How about you?” 

“Oh, quite pleasant. Daddy and I think we found a Blibbering Humdinger.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Draco saw Ron stifle a laugh, clearly seeing how hard Draco was working on being a new reformed, perfectly friendly person; and how much he was suffering to do so. “Oh…” Draco started, “Uh, um…”

“What’s that, Luna?” Harry asked, and in gratitude for his rescue, Draco squeezed his hand, their fingers locking together intricately. 

However Luna had taken to looking out the window and seemed not to hear them as the train sped down the tracks. Soon, they settled into regular conversation, discussing their OWL results and Harry being made the captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team. For the most part, Draco listened to the others chatter, but he didn’t feel at all disincluded. He was simply taking it in and enjoying having his leg pressing against Harry’s, their hands still locked. 

Neville kept going through his things and naming new things he lost, and each time Draco had to refrain from rolling his eyes. How could one person have so many things to have even lost?! Also, Luna kept talking about nonsense, the number of new unheard creatures she was talking about were enough to fill an entire brain, or so it felt anyway. 

Maybe they were quite different and nothing like Draco or anyone he was used to - but maybe that was a good thing. Eventually, as the day wore on, it didn’t feel quite as necessary to try and keep conversation flowing. Ron fell asleep, Hermione got out a book and started to read it, Neville had started writing a letter to send to his grandma, telling her all the things he had left behind. Luna was humming to herself and appeared to be in her own little world. They weren’t alone, but it was quiet enough for Harry and Draco to talk. 

Turning to face him, Harry leaned closer, there was practically no space whatsoever between them. 

“How are you?” he asked gently. 

It wasn’t a simple, casual question, it was weighted and serious and said in the way that you know the person really, genuinely wants to know. That was one of the things Draco missed most anytime that they were apart: having someone actually  _ care _ . As he thought over his answer, Harry lightly traced patterns with his thumb against the back of Draco’s hand, even the tiniest swirling stroke making his blood heat up. 

“I’m okay.” he said. It was a downright lie when you look at it overall, but as he was there with Harry, on the way to Hogwarts, and feeling entirely included by all of his friends - he felt more than okay. “I’ve missed you, Potter.”

Grinning, Harry said, “I’ve missed you too.” 

As he grinned, though, Draco could tell even though his eyes lit up, they weren’t the same brightness that they used to spark with. The summer had been difficult for him. 

“How are you?” he asked, and already sensing that he was about to give an airy  _ I’m-so-great!  _ fake response, he cupped a hand around the Gryffindor boy’s face, “And be honest with me, you know I can always tell when you’re lying.” 

In spite of the conversation, Harry couldn’t help but smile - Draco could see how impossible it would have been to fight even if he had tried. 

“It’s hard. I- I miss him everyday.” 

Draco felt awful - it was partially his fault, in a way. He should have  _ warned  _ him.. It wasn’t the time to be thinking like that, though. He just wanted to make Harry feel better. He just hated seeing Harry even thinking about it, the way he started to look a little lost and  _miserable_. As he met Draco's eyes, however, the hard sadness instantly softened.

“But I think it’ll be good to be at Hogwarts, and… you make me feel happier.” 

Pretending to roll his eyes at the soppiness, Draco pulled Harry towards him, their lips joining. It felt so liberating, to actually be able to kiss like that whilst they were in the middle of a small place with all of Harry’s friends. It was crazy to think of how long they had to hide it, how scared they were of how everybody would react - when Harry had the best friends ever. They were accepting and kind and more like a family than Draco’s own family was to him. 

“Are you sure you don’t mind sitting with us?” Harry whispered next, so quietly that nobody else could have possibly heard. 

“Oh Potter, you fool.” Draco said, a teasing smile crossing his face as he stroked a hand through the mess of black hair. It sounded completely ridiculous - how on earth could he mind it? It felt like settling into your home after months and months away. It felt so _right_.

 “I wouldn’t change it for the world.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading, i really hope you like this!


	2. delicate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took a while, i hope it's okay!  
> **features very very very mild smut, not at all graphic but thought i should warn you anyway :D

For the first few weeks of being back at Hogwarts, Draco tried to just let go of everything. He tried to forget all of the pressures coming from his family, from The Dark Lord; he tried to forget every single painful moment of knowing that his family hated him for being gay and for being with Harry. It was okay, at first. He didn’t care - he simply enjoyed being back with Harry. They didn’t have to hide anything, they would hold hands and give each other kisses in the hallways for anybody to see. Sometimes, Draco and Harry would go off together at lunch, but a lot of the time, Draco would sit with Harry and his friends. The nicest and also the most strange thing to Draco, was just how easily everybody included him. Occasionally, it felt as if he might accidentally slip back into the habit of seeing Ron and Hermione as his ‘enemies’ - in a childish way. He just didn’t understand how they could accept him after years of him being quite so awful to them. He guessed that it showed what great friends they truly were.. For Harry, they would do anything. 

Soon, though, it was impossible to ignore the pressing task at hand. His mother was continuously sending him letters, begging that he tried to get started because if he didn’t fail, The Dark Lord would most likely just kill him. Maybe, he thought to himself, a dead Draco would be a lot better than a dead Dumbledore and a murderer Draco. 

 

One day, away from Hermione and Ron, Draco and Harry were sat beside the lake. They were meant to be doing homework, but they had got distracted. It was easy to get distracted when it was just them, they couldn’t help themselves. As they kissed, lying in the long grass and letting their breaths run ragged, their hands moving all across one another’s bodies, Harry pulled away just for a second. 

“What is it?” Draco asked with a frown, looking down at Harry with serious eyes. 

“Nothing, it’s just- I have to go.” Harry replied, and on seeing Draco’s disappointment he sighed and shook his head, sitting up. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to either, but- Dumbledore’s asked me to meet him.”

Just hearing the name of the headmaster made Draco’s stomach plummet and his chest lurch a little bit. Confused, he tried not to look irritated that Harry hadn’t mentioned this to him sooner. It wasn’t like he was keeping secrets, he was telling him right then. “Why do you have to see him?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” Harry replied, and he stroked his thumb lightly across Draco’s jaw line. “Look, it’s just a meeting. Everything’s fine. I think… I think it’s just information about Voldemort.”

More sickening plummeting sensations in his stomach, even more of a painful leap in his otherwise hollow chest. Voldemort and Dumbledore in one conversation was even worse, Draco suddenly felt on edge and tense and nervous. What if Harry found out? What if he found out everything? That… that Draco had been forced to accept the challenge of murdering Dumbledore? No, it wasn’t just a sick  _ feeling _ , he was pretty sure if Harry wasn’t there he would have just doubled over completely and heaved everything straight back up. 

The worst part was, Harry was telling him this. He was trusting him enough to let him know that he had to meet Dumbledore - and Draco was filing it away as information to use for his ‘mission’. It made him feel awful, he wished he could just pretend he hadn’t heard it - but it was permanently locked in a folder. 

“I’ll see you later, alright?” Harry said, and he gave Draco one final kiss, a quick brush against the lips before getting up and heading back into the castle. 

As Draco watched him go, he felt a strange sadness washing over him. It seemed that it was a wave that would stain. 

 

******************

 

_ Draco,  _

_ Please tell me you’ve got started on the task. Just remember everything He said, and how much your father is relying on you. Stay safe,  _

_ Lots of love,  _

_ Mother  _

 

Draco crushed the parchment up into a ball in his hand. He was sat at breakfast with the Slytherins, and was terrified of anyone being able to see what the letter had said. He felt awful for his mother. She wanted to protect Draco, the last thing she wanted was for him to get caught or to get hurt, but they had had no choice into allowing it to happen. If Draco didn’t do what he was told - his father would get angry. And an angry Lucius was not good for either Draco  _ or  _ Narcissa. 

Across the room, Draco could see Harry sat with Ron and Ginny Weasley. They were laughing over something at breakfast. Sometimes, they would see Draco looking and insist that he go over and sit when them - but that was the last thing he wanted. Being around them was starting to get more and more difficult as the pressure of everything Voldemort had ordered got more and more intense. He had put it off for a few weeks and now people were asking what his plans were, asking why he was taking so long to try and think of a way. 

_ Why haven’t you started planning your murder, Draco _ ?

Just the thought of it made Draco shiver. It was like an endless nightmare, everywhere he went he could just hear those nagging voices, reminding him how shamed the family would be if they failed, reminding him that his parents would end up dead if he didn’t do as he had been asked. The only thing was, it couldn’t have even been a nightmare, because it was as if he never slept. Having friends was a lot harder than he had imagined it to be. Spending all of his days with Harry and his mates meant that it was nearly impossible for Draco to ever slip away and even  _ begin  _ to think of what he could do. This meant that his nights were dedicated to other things. Staring at his plate of food, Draco considered poison. Well, he thought about it for a few seconds before he realised just what it was he was thinking about and having to stop. 

He felt so  _ weak  _ and pathetic. His dad would find it easy to just kill someone, and Draco, feeling completely disgusted at his own views, couldn’t even think of it. That made him a disgrace to the Malfoy name. 

Of course, he didn’t even want to be a Malfoy, not really. All he wanted was to be with Harry - but then there was the issue of his parents. 

“ _ Hey _ .” 

Flinching, Draco was jumped out of his thoughts. Without him realising, the great hall had emptied greatly and Harry was stood opposite him, a small frown on his face. He tried to smile at Draco, but he had a strange look on his face. 

“Oh, hi.” Draco said quickly, and he got to his feet so fast that he knocked into the table and made the plates rattle. “Where is everyone?”

“Gone to class, which started five minutes ago.” Harry explained slowly. He was looking at Draco with careful curiosity, and he looked incredibly worried as well. “Babe, are you okay? You haven’t even eaten-”

“I’m fine.” Draco lied, and the speed at which he lied made it seem even more suspicious. He couldn’t stand it, it was so obvious that Harry was about to ask even more questions. He moved around to the other side of the table, instantly taking Harry’s hands. “I’m  _ fine _ . I just didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

“Why not?” Harry asked, but he was cut off by Draco kissing him, long and hard. It felt like they hadn’t seen each other for days, yet of course, they had been together just the previous evening. “Draco, what’s-”

“Nothing’s the matter.” Draco lied so smoothly that it hurt. The way that Harry was staring at him, confused and uncertain and entirely weirded out seemed so unbearable. His green eyes were piercing as he stared at Draco, and then they moved to his completely full plate. 

“You look exhausted.” Harry said, “Maybe you should eat, who cares if we’re late to potions-”

“No, no. Slughorn will care if his star student isn’t in lesson.” Draco said, and before he could get any more protests, he had taken Harry by the hand and started to pull him from the room and in the direction of the dungeons. 

The rate at which Draco was speeding didn’t hurry Harry up. Tightly, he squeezed his boyfriend’s hand to try and get his attention, but it didn’t work. Draco was babbling on, uttering nonsense about how the common room had been too noisy to even think of getting a wink of sleep. 

Lies. The Slytherin’s had been perfectly quiet as they all dozed in their beds, peaceful and resting whilst Draco sat by the fire, rereading every letter his mother had sent him, thinking of ways he could get out of the task - the task he would never be able to get out of in a million years. 

“Draco…” Harry was saying slowly. 

“-Pansy was being so ridiculously loud, you know how I hate that trollop, it just made it-”

“ _ Draco!” _

He had stopped moving, and he yanked on Draco’s hand as it gripped his own. Wide eyed, Draco turned to face Harry. He had spoken so loudly to try and be heard over his boyfriend that it was a wonder McGonagall hadn’t come sprinting out of her classroom to see which students she needed to put it detention for being so late.

 “What’s the matter?” Draco asked Harry. 

“Nothing’s the matter with  _ me _ .” Harry replied, and he furrowed his brow as he studied Draco. “The question is what’s the matter with  _ you _ ?” 

There was a very tense second. They both stared at each other, right into the seas of their eyes, trying to think of what the other was thinking. They got each other so well that it was pretty easy to tell what the other was feeling, they always just sort of  _ knew _ . Yet now, that was the last thing Draco wanted. It felt like the first time ever that he had hated that bond they had so much. If Harry could see what exactly was going on within the mess that was Draco’s brain - they would be screwed. Harry would go back as seeing him as that arrogant arsehole that he hated from Slytherin. 

“I told you, nothing.” Draco said at last. When he could tell Harry didn’t believe him, he said it again. And again. “Nothing is wrong, Harry, I promise. You know that I would never lie to you.”

He hated lying. He hated it more when it was lying to Harry. It made him feel cruel, not telling the one person who he was meant to be so completely honest with the truth. When Harry clearly didn’t believe him, Draco pulled him close. He lifted himself up a little on his feet so that he could reach up to kiss him. A slow, gentle kiss. He tried to put into it words, tried to let him know that everything was okay. 

But everything wasn’t okay. 

Somehow, though, luckily but also  _ painfully _ , Harry accepted it. He didn’t ask any more questions, he didn’t say what he was most likely thinking, which was that he knew Draco wasn’t okay. He just forced a smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. He allowed Draco to re-intertwine their fingers and continue pulling him to class. They walked slowly and side by side, but in silence. 

Cold, chilling silence. 

 

*******************

 

That night, Draco snuck out. He couldn’t stay in the common room, it was too loud and he couldn’t concentrate at all. He just wanted to walk and make himself feel even a little better. He didn’t plan on where he was going, yet he ended up at the astronomy tower. Once he had climbed to the top, he looked out over the view. The stars shone brightly down on the mountains that surrounded the grounds. He wished that he could just go and be there. Out in the wild where nobody knew anybody, everything was desolate and calm and there was no way that he could hurt anybody. He was fed up of being the nasty Slytherin boy who would never in his life be good. There was no escaping it, though. 

He tried to lose himself in the night, he tried to let the stars and the moon cocoon him in warmth and hope. All it did, though, was make him feel alone and cold and the silence made it impossible to even try and fill his mind with anything but stress. Dumbledore, killing Dumbledore, Draco killing Dumbledore. It wouldn’t stop ticking through his brain, it was driving him insane. 

He had been up there a while when he was made alert - he could hear footsteps against the steps leaving up to the top of the tower. Freezing, he stared around for a place to hide - if he was caught out of bed at such late hours, he would get in so much trouble. 

He didn’t know whether he should have been relieved or even more filled with dread when he realised that it wasn’t a professor come to tell him off, it was Harry. 

It used to fill him with hope and happiness when he saw his boyfriend, but now it just made him feel guilty and awful and sick. 

“Alright Potter?” he asked, trying to sound good natured, but his voice trembled and he knew he wasn’t the only one to realise that. “You following me?”

“Why are you up here?” Harry asked, ignoring his very weak attempt at humour. “Why aren’t you in your common room?”

“Why aren’t you?” Draco asked, and if he hadn’t been feeling so sorry for himself he would have noticed how his own question made Harry shift uncomfortably. He’d never found out what Dumbledore had wanted to see Harry about. 

“I was on my way there, but I saw you and-”

“And you followed me.” Draco finished, and his own words sounded flat and harsh to his own ears so he tried to lighten it with a small laugh. It was a very hollow laugh. “Don’t you trust me?” 

“Draco, what’s the matter?” Harry said, still ignoring everything the other boy said. He closed the space between them and lifted a hand to his face, his fingers slowly traced the dark shadows around his boyfriend’s eyes. “Talk to me.”

“I just wanted a walk.” Draco said, and when Harry’s eyes narrowed, he got self conscious. “What’s with the third degree, Harry?” 

Those green eyes were watching him closely. Concerned and curious and frowning and… sad. It made Draco’s heart break. 

Indeed, when Harry replied, his voice dripped with misery and worry. “I’m just worried about you.” 

He sounded so fragile and small. Draco wanted to pull him close and kiss his head and all of the bits and pieces but instead, he just got more on edge. Turning away, he walked over to the ledge of the tower and focused everything on the outside world. 

“There’s nothing to be worried about.” he said harshly. 

Not allowing himself to be ignored, Harry moved to stand by him, and he moved around so that Draco had no choice but to look at him. “Then why aren’t you sleeping or eating? Why won’t you just  _ talk-” _

“Oh god, Harry, I’m always like this.”

“Always in a shit mood and refusing to talk to me?”

“Yes!” Draco snapped, moving to the other side of the room, it was like a game of cat and mouse. “The honeymoon stage is over, Harry. You knew before we ever got together all these years ago, that I’m always in a shit mood. I don’t sleep, and a lot of the time, I don’t eat. That’s just the way I am!”

Harry’s eyes darkened as he glared at his boyfriend, but there was no denying how they went glassy. Draco felt terrible, he always had to ruin everything. 

“Look, I’m sorry.” he said in a low voice, “I just-”

“Is it your parents?” Harry said then, cutting him off. He tried to take Draco’s hands, “You know that you can talk to me-”

“No, it’s not my fucking parents.” Draco snapped, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. 

It felt strange. They hadn’t argued in so long, they usually only argued when one of them was about to break up with the other, but that was the last thing any of them wanted. It was foreign territory, rocky and unstable and too much to handle. 

“Can we just not talk about this?” Draco asked. 

Thankfully, that seemed to be all that Harry wanted, too. He nodded, and exhaled a huge sigh of relief. It seemed over, but of course, it wasn’t. He was still nervous and desperate to know what was bothering Draco, but Draco wasn’t going to say anything. 

Instead, they kissed. It was easier than talking, because the moods they were in, there was no way that they could get a serious question. 

So they kissed. And they undressed each other. Right there in the middle of the astronomy tower, Draco let Harry undo his buttons and he let his shirt fall to the floor. Then Harry’s was being lifted over his head, and they both stood shirtless.  

“I love you.” Harry said, taking a small break from gently grazing his teeth across the pale skin of Draco’s neck. 

Whimpering, Draco tangled his hold into Harry’s hair and tilted his chin up into the air, closing his eyes. “I love you.”

It felt perfect, of course. It always did. Slowly, they undressed to be in completely nothing. Their bodies wrapped around one another, the air filled with their heavy gasps and their weakened moans. Their hands explored, their mouths did the same. They whispered that they loved each other, they told one another how perfect they were. Soon, they were completely wrapped up. Draco moved in and out of Harry, and each time their bodies got closer, their hot bodies of passionate energy and furious love, it felt so right but also so wrong. 

Draco was lying. He wanted to kill himself, he felt so bad for lying. He’d always promised himself that he would never do anything to hurt Harry. But then again, what would hurt him more? 

Having a boyfriend who was bad tempered and never slept and wasn’t honest, or having a boyfriend who was going to kill the wisest man you knew? 

As he pushed himself into Harry and got out weakened, beautiful, sexy little moans, he felt the dread and the guilt fill him up even more. 

“I love you.” he said again and again, and it wasn’t just to reassure Harry but it was also to reassure himself. 

He loved Harry… he was doing it all for Harry and for his family. 

If he didn’t, Voldemort would kill them all. 

It  _ had  _ to be the right thing, he had to be doing it out of love. It was the only way he could keep himself from hating himself even more than he already did. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!


	3. red song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** this chapter contains homophobic language!  
> sorry i'm taking a long time to update this story, thank you to those sticking around :D

Draco scowled at the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. Snape had ordered (it was never ‘ask’ with Snape, always a stern demand) that he stay behind after class. As everybody filed out of the room, Harry hovered uncertainly by Draco’s desk; very awkwardly aware that the professor he detested was staring in their direction. Pink cheeked, Harry slid his hand across the table and gently squeezed Draco’s hand. Despite his particularly foul mood, Draco couldn’t help but smile ever so slightly, always finding it a little funny to watch Harry with Snape. He was always uncomfortable and quietly seething. Draco didn’t know what it was, but there was something he found incredibly attractive when Harry was irritated. He got all hot and bothered and just beamed red lights. 

“Thank you, Mr Potter, I’m sure Mr Malfoy is perfectly capable of talking to me alone.” Snape said coolly. 

Trying not to look too frustrated, Harry rolled his eyes and smiled at Draco. “See you later?”

“Yes, of course.” Draco said, and for the slightest second he stopped being at all annoyed by Snape. Knowing that Harry wouldn’t make the move himself, he rose to his feet and kissed Harry briefly, taking satisfaction from the way his boyfriend’s breath caught; always surprised by the fact that they didn’t have to hide their affection in the shadows anymore.

From his desk, Snape cleared his throat impatiently. “Haven’t you got studying to do, Potter?” 

Sheepishly, Harry gave Draco one more fleeting smile before darting from the room. As he exited, so did the very tiny flash of joy that Draco had felt. 

“What is it then?” he said, not caring that he spoke rudely - he knew just what Snape wanted to talk about. 

Before anything, Snape waved his wand in the direction of the door and it swung gracefully shut. He also muttered a low  _ muffilato -  _ Draco repressed a frustrated groan. He had done well at pretending like Voldemort’s pressing task wasn’t in his mind whatsoever, and of course, that wasn’t how Snape would have it. He was going to talk about it and there was no getting out of it.

“Draco, I’m sure you do not need reminding that your mother asked me to protect you from the matters at hand.” Snape said, his slow voice sparking unexpected interest in Draco. 

Frowning, he shook his head, “She didn’t say anything about you.”

“Hm. Well, I agreed to watch over you, be your guardian angel.” he scoffed, turning up his nose at that entirely. “To make sure you’re not going to get hurt. And I’m sure you know, Draco, that you will get more than hurt if you don’t fulfill The Dark Lord’s wishes.” 

Groaning, Draco shook his head. “What makes you think I won’t?” he asked. 

Snape looked as if he might be amused, or might have just been bored. His black beetle eyes moved to the door and back, following the path that Harry had just taken as he left. 

“What’s he got to do with this?” Draco asked defensively, folding his arms tightly across his chest and leaning back in his chair. “Harry doesn’t have anything to do with what  _ He  _ wants-”

“Draco,” Snape cut him off, his cold voice like a dagger. “No, he has nothing to do with that. I’m sure you haven’t told him-”

“Do you think I’m an idiot? Of course I haven’t  _ told  _ him!”

“-but it’ll do you well to consider the fact that your interests should lie a lot less in canoodling with Potter and more on focusing on your task.” 

Narrowing his eyes, Draco retorted, “I am focusing.” It was a lie - he definitely had  _ not  _ been. He stayed up at night worrying, but he didn’t focus at all on how he would  _ do  _ it. 

“If you’re going to let some silly little secondary school romance get in the way, to be the entire downfall of your family, you’re weaker than I thought.”

Growing increasingly annoyed, bordering on full blown rage, Draco got back up from his chair, hoisting his backpack onto his shoulder. “I don’t need a pep talk, I know what I’m doing.”

“What you’re  _ doing _ is not paying the attention required to be anywhere  _ close  _ to pleasing The Dark Lord.”

Heading for the door, Draco said over his shoulder, “I don’t need this, Snape.”

“Draco, just _take_ _note_ , don’t be foolish. If you want to let loving the wrong person shame yourself and your family, I’d think again!” 

That made Draco snap. He was fed up of people saying things about how him and Harry shouldn’t be together, he was fed up of being made to doubt the fact, which was that he was in love with Harry. He didn’t care if he was a boy, that he was a Gryffindor, that he was  _ The Chosen One _ . 

Shooting daggers, he whirled to face the professor. “I wouldn’t be the first one to let loving the wrong person be my downfall.” 

Seeing he had hit a nerve in Snape, he smiled. And then hated the sick pleasure he got from hurting someone by saying something so cruel. He’d thought he was getting better at being  _ good _ … the sadness only lasted for a second. The cold emotionless eyes on Snape glazed over ever so slightly, and he pressed his lips tightly shut. 

When he spoke again, it was as if it was effort, painful effort that he really couldn’t be bothered to use but was forcing himself to. “I’d be careful, Draco. I’m just looking out for you.”

“Yeah, looking out for me by encouraging me to murder the greatest wizard of all time, who, by the way, is meant to be your  _ friend _ .” 

He didn’t stay to say anything else that could possibly get him into trouble, didn’t care to see how Snape had reacted. Just turned and stalked down the corridor, clenching his fists 

 

************

 

His conversation with Snape had not done Draco well. Recently, he had been tired and he hadn’t been eating, he’d been incredibly stressed and maybe a little secretive - but he felt as if he was doing well with trying to be nice. Harry was good at helping him with that, he no longer taunted and teased anyone, mostly because he knew if he did Harry would be annoyed. But then he realised how  _ freeing  _ it felt to not have the guilt that he didn’t used to realise he got for being an utter bastard. 

Snape did a good job at keeping his feelings for Lily Evans a secret from the world, Draco only knew brief details and that was thanks to listening in to his parents’ conversations, he hadn’t even told Harry. It made him sad. It was something he related to wholeheartedly, other than, of course, the fact that Harry loved him back. He couldn’t imagine how painful it must have been for Snape… and he had just used that to purposely make him feel bad. He had been intending to go and meet Harry but he wasn’t in the mood. Harry would just want to know what Snape had wanted, and Draco would have to lie. Lying to Harry was the worst. It also felt pretty bad not going to find him when he had said he would see him later - but it was the lesser of two evils. 

Thankfully, he didn’t pass his boyfriend as he made his way to the common room. It shouldn’t have been at all busy as it was during the day, usually between lessons if people weren’t at lunch then they made the most of the fresh air. Of course, just Draco’s luck, the common room was not at all empty. In fact, he got the feeling you get when you walk into a room and the noise instantly dulls to a numb and you’re pretty certain that you were just the subject of conversation.

A group of sixth year Slytherins all sat around a table in the far corner. The moment Draco entered the room, all of them turned to face him - Pansy seemed to be ablaze with hatred the moment she laid eyes on him. Draco had known that none of the Slytherins were exactly keen on him but - well. He was Draco Malfoy, nobody ever confronted him. Awkwardly, he approached them, each step he took brought a strange feeling of nerves, something he wasn’t used to. He was used to walking with an arrogant swagger - it even annoying himself when he did it, but it showed his status. 

“What’re you all gawping at?” he asked when he was within earshot, trying to sound lighthearted but knowing himself he sounded anxious. 

He wasn’t used to it. He wasn’t used to his housemates going against him, but it looked as if they all wanted to stamp on him. If only they knew about what Voldemort had asked him to do, then they wouldn’t even dare say anything bad to him. To his surprise, it was Crabbe and Goyle who got to their feet, rounding on him. 

“Boys.” he said, a dreary attempt at forced chill clear. “I’m glad I ran into you, we’ve barely spoken-”

“Yeah, we’ve barely spoken because you’re so caught up with Potter.” Goyle cut him off, sounding like the name made him feel sick. 

“What’s gotten into you?” Draco asked slowly, and his eyes moved around, resting on each of the bitter expressions. “Why are you all looking at me like I’m your enemy all of a sudden?” he tried to laugh, but nothing came out. 

Only a Slytherin could truly know the fury a Slytherin could channel. 

“Look, Malfoy, it’s like this.” Crabbe said whilst Goyle nodded, “We’re cool with the faggot thing.”

That word. It was a muggle insult but it had managed to feed it’s way into the wizarding world. The way one of his ‘friends’ dropped the word so casually made Draco’s skin prickle all over. Before he could carry on, Draco lifted a hand. 

“If you’re so ‘cool’ with me being gay, then you wouldn’t be calling me a f-  _ that _ .” his voice trembled and he wasn’t sure if it was with nerves or with anger. None of the others seemed to bat an eyelid. 

Suddenly it was clear why. They were the ones who would call people ‘mudblood’ and think it was common. Draco used to be one of them. Suddenly, his eyes were stabbing with threatening tears. He was horrified - he couldn’t let himself  _ cry _ , especially in front of all of the others. No, he wouldn’t let himself. He held himself tall. 

“Whatever.” Crabbe said, “It’s that-”

“The point is,” it was Pansy, she had gotten up unnoticed and walked around to stand in front of the boys, in between Draco and his old minions. She looked up at him with cold eyes and pursed lips, Draco couldn’t believe he had ever even considered being with her. It had been because he wanted a cover up for being madly in love with Harry, but still. She was a pure witch - evil and cruel. “If you’re going to ditch your house, who are meant to be like  _ family _ , because you want to spend time with your precious  _ Potter _ ,” she spat, “Then we’ll just have to get even with your boytoy.” 

She sounded ruthless. Her nasty words were just so  _ ugly _ . Clenching his fists, Draco moved closer. He was a lot taller than her, he towered above her. “If you fucking lay a hand on Harry, I’ll kill you myself. And that goes for all of you.”

He turned to face the others. Some, like Pansy and Zabini, looked completely unbothered. Crabbe and Goyle looked a little startled and exchanged glances. They were never on the opposite side of Draco’s harshness. There was a silence as the echo of Draco’s threat pattered around the room, until Pansy snorted with laughter. She gave him a look, a look that said he wasn’t worth her time, and went to sit back down in her seat. She was in between Milliscent and Zabini - well, in between wasn’t really the word. She was pretty much  _ on _ Blaise, draped all over him. Her arm was around his neck so that her hand lightly stroked patterns across his neck with her cat like claws. 

“I told you.” she said, sounding amused. As she spoke, the other's’ mouths twisted into smiles. “He may as well be a filthy mudblood.” 

Chuckles erupted amongst the group. “He’s worse than the blood traitor Weasleys.” Someone else said, Draco didn’t pay attention to see who. 

Suddenly he’d started to feel terrified. He didn’t know what it was, he’d never experienced anything like it, but his head went numb and hot and he felt as if he may faint. It was like the faces of his peers were multiplying and he was stood in the middle of an entire cage of terrible eyes and the laughter got louder and louder. 

The worst thing was that he had been like them just last year. He wondered if this was how everybody else felt, Hermione and the Weasley’s, Longbottom, Luna, even  _ Harry _ …. People he had made feel like this multiple times and were now actually his friends. He wanted to vomit. 

“Don’t talk about them like that.” he said, knowing it was a stupid thing to say, but saying it anyway, as weak as it sounded. 

That just made them laugh harder. 

He turned his gaze on Crabbe and Goyle. 

“So you’re with them?” he asked. “You think I’m a mudblood and a  _ faggot _ ?” 

The words falling off his tongue felt like unforgivable curses. Suddenly the idea of saying either of them made him want to be sucked down through a hole in the floor and have it encase him in, burying him alive. 

Through the noise of nastiness and humiliation, he could just about focus his gaze on Crabbe and Goyle. No, he never really saw them as friends, they were just his cronies. Well… he  _ used  _ to see them as friends until he realised how true friends acted. 

True friends were kind and supportive. True friends invited their friends round to spend the entire summer holiday with them, true friends shared Christmas. True friends laughed together, true friends stayed up into the early hours of the morning talking and talking and talking for no other reason but for the fact that it was fun. 

He still thought,  _ hoped _ , that they would defend him. That was what friends were supposed to do. 

But no. It was his own fault, really, he’d never shown them any kindness so was it really a surprise that as his face flamed up in an embarrassing shade of chilli pepper and he felt close to dissolving entirely, they just looked on? They didn’t join in the laughter, but they didn’t try to put a stop to it. 

Before he did anything else to humiliate himself, Draco turned on his heel and sprinted from the room. 


	4. sad eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry i'm taking so long with updating this story, i'm super busy atm! i hope you all have a good easter if you celebrate ^-^

The pile of letters from home on Draco’s bedside table was getting more and more heaped. Each piece of parchment a pretty much identical plea to get to work on the Dark Lord’s task. Ones sent by his father were filled with raging threats, ones from his mother were begging for him to promise he was working on it, and telling him that his father was getting angry. An angry Lucius wasn’t good for anyone, but maybe most of all, for Draco’s mother. He didn’t want to think about it, the thought alone made him itch to hit something extremely hard - but the words inked down were like bruises. Bruises and scars and pain.

It was the middle of the night, and Draco’s dorm mates were all sleeping. That was the last thing on Draco’s mind, he had gotten to the point of being unable to sleep so badly that even trying made his mind ache. With the low light of his wand, Draco read and reread everything. 

All he had to do was read his mother’s emotional words to feel guilt twisting and twisting inside of him. He knew that if he were home, he still wouldn’t be sleeping. He wondered if Lucius was hurting her… 

_ Stop it _ , Draco had to keep reminding himself sternly,  _ he wouldn’t hurt her… _

But he had done before. And he could start again, and it was all up to Draco. Whatever he decided would also decide the fate of his mother.

When he was really honest with himself, Draco knew that he didn’t care about keeping up the family name. He didn’t care that he had made his father ashamed, he was happy to be with Harry. But what he  _ did  _ care about, was his mother. He cared so deeply about the fact that his mother was relying on him, and she was above everything. 

Even his love for Harry. 

Gulping down the toxicity of acid, Draco shuffled through letters and letters, the words all fogging into one. They also had suggestions, ideas of what he should do. 

It was so stressful. It felt like a massive boulder of weight crushing down on him, and he was getting weaker and weaker. Being with Harry didn’t even lighten the load, he just felt so pressured and so lost and confused that it was pretty much breaking him. He was crushed. 

For the millionth time, he decided,  _ I’ll think about it tomorrow _ and stuffed his face into his pillows. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, he tried to breathe steadily to calm himself down, he got under the silky sheets - settling in for another sleepless night that still managed to be running rampage with nightmares. 

 

*******************

 

Draco was so exhausted the following morning that he didn’t have it in him to even try and notice his fellow Slytherins, insulting him behind his back but still loud enough for anybody to hear; glaring at him. 

“He’s a mess.” one of them was saying, “A messed up faggot.” 

Across the hall, he could see Harry sat with his friends. He didn’t look too happy himself, he was having what looked like a very hushed conversation with Ron and Hermione, their heads all bent together to discuss their secrets. Draco realised that Harry hadn’t told him anything secret worthy recently. He knew he was being an idiot, but he still couldn’t help but wonder if Harry was keeping things from him. Not that Draco would have any right to be annoyed about that, he wasn’t just keeping things, he was sitting on a murder plot. 

“I can’t believe people used to think he would actually  _ be  _ someone.” another person snickered, “All he’s done for this whole meal is stare at Potter.”

“Probably fantasizing about fucking him like the queer he is.” 

Sharply, Draco turned his head to look at them. He gave them a look that used to send anyone running, but then again, the Slytherins weren’t scared of him. They all laughed, Pansy the loudest. The merest second of being around them involved some sort of torment. Sometimes Draco didn’t even listen, sometimes he acted like he didn’t care, sometimes he fought back. On this occasion, however he did neither. 

Scraping his chair back, Draco got to his feet and fled from the room. He could feel everybody’s eyes on him, wondering what on earth could have Draco Malfoy in such a twist, and he heard the cackling of laughter. As he went, he passed the teacher’s table. For the briefest moment, he stopped. Without even meaning to, Draco’s gaze met that of the headmaster. Dumbledore’s pale blue eyes were steady and curious. He was staring at Draco and it was as if he  _ knew,  _ but in that strange Dumbledore way that didn’t give anything away. There wasn’t any emotion in it, yet somehow there was warmth too. Sure that he must have imagined it, Draco shook his head and continued marching out of the great hall. Suddenly the now all too familiar pang of guilt and nerves struck like an elastic band in his chest and everything felt tight. Luckily, the majority of people were still eating breakfast, he didn’t pass anybody. His feet leading him, he found himself going outside and across to the lake. It was coming into October, the morning air was freezing cold. The fact that he pretty much never ate anything had started making him feel the cold even more, and he had always been on the skinny side. Finding a tree by the lake, he sat down. He was shivering horribly, so badly that when his teeth chattered it almost hurt, but he didn’t care. He deserved to feel like that. 

That’s what he kept telling himself. For what he was going to do, for what he  _ had  _ to do, he deserved to feel pain and sadness. 

He felt so humiliated. Everybody had laughed at him. He’d never been bullied before, people used to be scared of him. Now… they all thought he was weak. He’d known that would happen, it was one of the reasons he had always been so scared to come out. Of course, he knew it was worth it. It was so much better not having to hide his relationship with Harry, they got on so much better, all they had to focus on was their  _ love _ , not keeping secrets and sneaking around. Sometimes though, he found himself wondering if he could, would he go back? If he hadn’t had let himself be with Harry, none of it would have happened. 

But maybe Harry would be dead. 

Instantly, he regretted having those thoughts. As soon as the ideas entered his head, he heard footsteps coming through the long grass and before he even spoke, Draco knew that Harry had found him. 

“Draco?”

And that was all he needed. 

That sweet, sweet voice of the boy he loved so dearly was enough to crack him. He couldn’t contain himself, it was like dominos falling one by one. His breaths hitched and then he was sniffing and then tears were streaming down his cheeks. Immediately, Harry was at his side. 

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, panicked and saddened all at once. Before Draco all but crumbled into a sobbing heap on the ground, Harry had caught his head in his lap. His arm was around him and he was lightly stroking his hand through his white blond hair.  _ “Shhhh.”  _ he soothed softly, stroking Draco’s back. The Slytherin felt like a baby, he felt so pathetic. If anyone saw him… 

He didn’t move though. Gradually, he allowed Harry to bring him back. He was probably the only person who could. Soon, Draco’s ugly wracking sobs grew quiet and there were just silent tears trailing down his pale cheeks. 

“Draco, what’s wrong?” Harry was asking, “What’s happened?” 

Then he saw something - Draco had meant to stuff it in his pocket but when he had raced from breakfast, he’d had the newest letter screwed up in his hand. He hadn’t even read it when it came, he was trying to ignore it, there were so many already. Harry went to pick it up, and too fast Draco’s hand darted to grab it up, shoving it deep into the pockets of his robes. 

“Draco, what was that? Is that why you’re so upset?” Harry asked, bewildered. 

Suddenly Draco had burst into tears all over again. He felt awful, Harry looked so taken aback, he really wasn’t used to dealing with a crying Draco, anytime he did he went into shutdown.  The parchment digging into Draco’s waist through his robes felt like a scraping claw, a reminder of all the things he was hiding. 

“I’m sorry.” he said, and he tried to wipe his tears away but Harry, with his wide green eyes that shined with miserable confusion took his hand in his own. 

“Sorry? What’s there to be sorry about?”

_ Everything _ . 

“My parents-” he started to say, but he choked on his own words. Unable to get any further, he shook his head desperately and curled in on himself. 

“The letter is from your parents?” Harry guessed, and when Draco nodded, his boyfriend looked crestfallen. Their hands were laced and Harry’s fingers knotted through reached to stroke lightly against Draco’s cheek, wiping up the tears. “Is it- is it about us?” 

Well, of course Draco couldn’t tell the truth. He couldn’t lie either though, he stayed silent, allowing Harry to fill in the blanks. 

“I thought you said they were okay with it?” Harry asked. He sounded so… flat. Deflated with his disappointment and sadness that something as beautiful as their love could cause quite so many problems.

Despite himself, Draco snorted at the mere thought of his parents ever being ‘okay’ with him being gay. Even more ridiculous was the suggestion that they would be okay with him and Harry having any sort of relationship. Slowly, Draco managed to calm himself down, as Harry’s hand moved in steady reassuring circles across his back his breaths eased slightly. He turned to face Harry properly. He could tell his eyes were puffy underneath and bloodshot, his cheeks streaked with tears. In the distance, they could hear the bell ringing. They’d been in enough trouble for being late in the short time back at Hogwarts, but none of them cared. 

“My mum is… coming round to the idea.” he said. “But my dad - you know what he’s like Harry. He hates me.”

Suddenly Harry looked heartbroken. And so guilty, and he started uttering apologies instantly. “Draco, I’m so sorry, I didn’t…” 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Draco cut him off, and though he sounded weak it was with a stubborn fire. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. It’s hardly your fault that he’s- well. Him.”  

“But-”

Cupping his hands around Harry’s face, Draco shook his head again. His chest ached, how did he have someone so  _ loving _ , he’d never had someone care for him like this. Yet here was Harry, kicking himself because Draco was feeling sadness. Tears pricked his own eyes and he tried for a watery eyed smile. 

“No, I’m happiest with you. I’d be miserable without you, you’re… you’re like my light. You have nothing to be sorry for, Harry.” he insisted sternly, and before he could do anything to stop it, more tears started sliding glassily down his cheeks. He felt so ridiculous. 

And deceitful. 

Here he was pretending the only issue was his parents not accepting that he was gay. That was the last of his worries - he  _ wished  _ he could tell the truth. He had been thinking of telling Harry the Slytherin’s were hassling him, it would maybe make it slightly easier to deal with - but he wouldn’t do that to him. He was feeling guilty enough for Draco’s parents, if he found out that Draco was being harassed and it was partly his fault… no. He couldn’t land him with that.  

“I’m sorry.” Draco whispered. 

“Why are  _ you  _ sorry?”

Draco actually laughed. What  _ wasn’t  _ he sorry for? He gestured to the surroundings, “Making you late. Being a pathetic git. Just…”  _ Lying. You’re a liar, Draco…  _ “I’m sorry for everything. I’m just being annoying.”

Harry didn’t get it. He still looked confused, frowning. But he didn’t ask any more questions. He wound his arms tightly around his boyfriend and pulled him into him. 

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” he whispered. 

“But-”

“Just shut up, Malfoy.” Harry said, and Draco could tell he was smiling as he spoke. “I fucking love you.”

  
Draco squeezed his eyes shut, holding back more tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is quite short, i hope it's okay!


	5. author's note

Hey guys,  
I'm very sorry to say that I'm going to be taking a break from this story, and I don't know how long this is going to last.

I really want to finish this story but at the moment I'm just not feeling ready, I need the right moment of inspiration to hit! So yeah, I'm sorry if any of you are disappointed by this but I'm still going to be posting other fics on my account - I just really want to do Wicked Game right. I'd rather feel that what I'm posting is perfect than hate every chapter I post!  
I wanted to update you with this because I'd rather be upfront rather than trying to pretend that this story is running smoothly hahaha

I hope you understand and thank you :)


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